


there's a hair in my meta

by ellipsesificate



Series: comm-ficathon fills [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Gen, comm-ficathon, i don't know how to title whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesificate/pseuds/ellipsesificate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abed approaches Shirley with a proposition that she will, in fact, refuse, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a hair in my meta

**Author's Note:**

> written for the comm-ficathon on livejournal. which, i don't know. people should check out. go ahead.

 “…and the start-up funds should be enough if we open it in your shop – the appeal of being able to eat a sandwich while having your hair styled ought to attract a lot of customers.  I can’t tell you where I got the money from yet, but I can say that it’ll create sufficient drama between us at a later date that we’ll overcome through sheer friendship and the appreciation of honorable business practices.”

Abed tapped his pen against his notepad and stared across the table at Shirley.  Despite finally being given an opening to respond, Shirley stared back in silence.

When she finally spoke, she kept her words slow and sweet and clasped her hands together, benign.  “Abed.  Honey.  Do you know anything about hair styling?”

“Nope,” he said, unabashed.  “But your hair is always fantastic, so I figured you might know something.”

“I know how to do _my_ hair.  I don’t want to know how to do anyone else’s.”

He shrugged and jotted something down in his notepad.  “That’s fine.  We’ll have a lot of fun learning.  Maybe I could master the bowl-cut.  And only the bowl-cut.”

“Nobody actually wants a bowl-cut.”

“ _Exactly_.”

Shirley took a breath.  Behind Abed she could see the customers crowding her sandwich shop.  It just had to be during the lunch rush that he had to approach her, didn’t it?  “Abed.  Do I really have to tell you why I don’t want a hair salon in my sandwich shop?”

“Sanitation – hair or hairspray could come in contact with the food.  Which would be gross, and could also result in us being shut down.  You’re also busy enough as it is in between your family, school, and work that a hair salon would only be an additional stress.  For that, I suggest giving Kevin expanded responsibilities – I think that would be a steady source of loveable antics and problems for us to solve together.”  The corner of Abed’s mouth quirked up as he waited for Shirley’s approval.  In the background, Kevin’s frantic voice could be heard above the clamour, begging people to get in an orderly line as someone (most likely Garrett) sobbed.

“Abed, I’m not opening a hair salon with you in my sandwich shop.”

Abed dropped his smile and looked down, brow creased as he re-examined his notebook.  “…what if we didn’t open it in the sandwich shop?”

“ _No_.”  The word came out harsher than Shirley had intended, and when Abed’s fingers tightened around his pen Shirley forced herself to take a deep breath.  “Abed, why is this so important to you?  Don’t get me wrong, if it weren’t so damn inconvenient it’d be a cute idea, but I know you understand why I just can’t do it.”

“I know,” Abed answered, his voice level and calm.  He fiddled with the pen.  “We just don’t get a lot of stories together.  I just wanted to figure out how to generate something that will keep us interacting with each other regularly.  Also, I really like your hair and so does everyone else.”

Shirley’s irritation ebbed, and despite the fact that she could clearly hear Garrett screeching about how Kevin carelessly putting mustard in his sandwich could have very well killed him, she smiled and put her hand over Abed’s.  The pen stilled.  “Honey, you don’t have to try and make my life more stressful than it needs to be just to hang out more often.  We could always just rag on movies like we used to, or you could help out around the sandwich shop every so often.  Maybe you can come with me next time I go get my hair done.”

“…I’d like that.”

(Garrett collapsed to the floor and Kevin wailed, claiming self-defense, he has Changnesia, he didn’t _know_ that you shouldn’t fight angry customers back with a cutting board.  Shirley would not be getting home on time that night.)


End file.
